Open Table
by s41k1
Summary: Taking requests for one-shots! Also my one-shot/idea dump. Drabble 010: Puppy Love. There were at least four who didn't think he was scary. ON INDEFINITE HIATUS.
1. 001: Watching Me Fade

****Okay, okay. I say I'm busy but I can't stop writing during my off time. Thing is, I have no idea what to write, so you can send in your requests! I do any pairing~ keep your requests T-rated though. So drop your prompts via review because I'd freak if my inbox gets swamped. Ahem. First up is HetaQuest related!****

****A drabble I did a while back after finishing Feliciano's chapter. There might be spoilers! Meanwhile, I'll wait for sub updates and idly wonder about Yong Soo…****

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><p><strong><strong>001: Watching Me Fade<strong>**

At first, I thought it was a great idea. Something like, __I don't want Lud to worry, so why not I get him to do my work!__ Lud__is__ my best friend after all, and I thought this job would be like any other, even though I got killed. And success! Lud didn't notice a thing, and he would be able to do his side of the job smoothly. Being the envoy __and__ prince was important!

Then I heard the prophecy.

Everything went downhill from there, I think. I would see Kiku, Lud and Italy having adventures I would never experience. They had each other's back, and even though they were tired after their battles, they could still smile and have fun. They met Peter, whom I think they slowly taught that he should try to make things work between he and his father. When that woman told us about her siblings, I thought it was both heartening and sad that they would do so much to bring her back.

Despite being dead, there would be no peace for us.

Gilbert told Italy what I had never asked before; the reason why he and Lud were Users of the Black Jewel. From that point onwards, I started to feel like I was drifting away somehow. I dismissed it. This wasn't like me, to brood over things like this. I'm the happy-go-lucky Feliciano Vargas! Nothing could change that!

I just wish I could do more to help Lud, especially upon knowing he had voices in his head because of the Jewel.

I have to say I was so happy to see fratello again! Remembering how he was when we were younger were so fun to tell, I could forget I was sad! And I could paint again too! Through Italy, but still. I regret I can never finish that drawing, but what could I do?

Rescuing Toni, saving the Lady Zira, trekking through the desert to Kyuret onwards… it really was fun. But to tell __Italy__ the promise Lud made to me… I just couldn't. If I told that, there would no longer be a Feliciano Vargas. But I'm still here! Even though I'm dead and just a mere ghost, I still existed! There is and was a Feliciano Vargas, and I would never give that part away…

I really wanted to be beside Lud, to tell him I was still here, but my words could no longer reach him. Is it so bad I wanted to hold on to that small part of me…?


	2. 002: World Dance: Entry

**Thinking of this headcanon submitted on Tumblr and thought, why not I write it? Having it as separate one-shots in this 'collection' would be okay, since I really shouldn't start something new. There might be the occasional OC, just because. This one seems to go like reader-insert…**

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><p><strong>002:<strong> World Dance: Entry

Most of them wear black, every year without fail. But this isn't a grim occasion; in fact, it's to celebrate the one day they can actually get along (mostly, when sober). Of course, there are the girls like Hungary who wear striking colours. This year, she's decked out in lime green, laughing over something at the other end of this grand hall. The party is held in this mansion, on a niche private island. No one's bosses know of this place because this is strictly nations-only. The domed roof is high above everyone, capped off with glass. Moonlight streams into the hall, casting a circle in the middle of the cream marble room. The lighting is purposefully dim and while everyone knows each other, you might be surprised at what you might learn under the light cover of the darkness.

Naturally, it's not like the years go by uneventfully, but today, all sadness and hatred is put aside temporarily as everyone gives each other more leeway. The worst of enemies dance with each other as they always do. Just 'differently'.

No one stops to wonder who built this place, or who started the tradition.

Come here, any way you like. Do you take a boat, a private plane, or even walk here? Oh dear, walking sounds impossible, does it not? But nations aren't quite humans, so why not?

If you come by the beach, you will feel the soft, smooth sand beneath your feet. Bone white sand stretches across this coastline, and while the colour might unnerve you, wouldn't this be how people end up eventually? Ah, how poetic, yet morbid. Yet, it is the truth, for people will die sooner or later. There will be cobblestone pathways shaded by the strangely thick canopy of leaves which will take you to little wooden huts dotted around. You would have to find your way to your cabin, but it doesn't matter. Your feet will always lead you there.

Or would you rather come by plane? The landing strip is clear to any nation's eyes, but mere humans cannot see it. Isn't that a nice touch of mystic? You might miss it on your first time round, new nation, but you _will_ see it. You were probably picked up by another nation, and he or she can take you here this way. From the sky, it seems like the island is completely uninhabited, but everything here is hidden under the canopy. It will clear upon your approach, so do not worry about a fiery death.

Whatever way you come, you will eventually walk to your cabin. You might see other cabins, depending on if you're neighbours on the world map. Their flags will be discreetly stylized on their doorknobs, and so will yours be on yours. Just turn it. It will unlock for you, and it will remain closed to others lest you invite them in as well.

The cabin will be compact, housing only the largest wardrobe imaginable. You will not require sleep so long you remain here. Today will literally be the longest day of your life.

Pick an outfit. Would you be modest and stick to the classic black or white piece? Would you pick out maybe, say, a sequinned ensemble (never mind if you're male)? Are you looking to dazzle while you have fun, or are you content with watching everyone smile? All your fancies will be catered, and no one will look, ah, 'tacky'.

Once you are dressed, make your way further down the path. The sun will never be too hot. There _is_ the canopy after all. Do not be concerned about your clothes. Whatever you wear, you are certain to look fabulous. This island is that kind of place, after all. Smile! Be more confident!

When you see the mansion, do stop and stare for a while. Yes, it is big. Yet, it looks modest and homey. Or small, if you like. It is set on a hill, thus you would need to climb up the pristine set of stairs. It is a sky shade of blue, possibly reminding you of several nations' eyes. To your left and right are still trees, and they form an arch over the stairs. Make your way up as fast or leisurely as you like. I assure you, no one arrives hot and out of breath. That is not elegant.

At the top, you will see a ridiculously small door, especially when compared to the size of the mansion. The solid wooden door has no garland whatsoever on it and is only marked out by a single golden plate. There doesn't appear to have any windows along this whole length. How strange. As you approach the door, the plate starts to spell out your name. It shall swing open, and someone will wait for you behind it, ready to dance with you.

Who do you hope it will be?


	3. 003: Title Pending

**It's a story idea I might pick up after finishing my finals and Spade King. The latter would take really long though. I feel sorry that I don't have a set plot for it. It's a slice-of-life Gakuen AU with het pairings. Because Hetalia needs het too. Abigail is fem!America and Karen is fem!Canada.**

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><p><strong>003:<strong> Journals Originated in Korea! –title pending-

**(A/N: It's hard for me to write in past tense. Arrghh.)**

Today I start my first day in the so-called 'Academy'. It's so bloody posh it doesn't have a proper name. Pssh. It's annoying my parents want to flaunt their money, but I live off them, so I can't say anything. Though I did. Sigh. Hyung gave me this journal thing for me to record my thoughts so I am, but I probably would forget it a few weeks down. I wish appa and omma didn't pressure him so much. But he's the elder twin, so all their hopes are on him.

Oh, this is a posh school. I hope no one here goes to concerts and recognize me as his twin. The boy who gave up the piano, huh. I didn't, but I can't play it at home. It just feels not right there. I did take up the drum though (yay, another percussion instrument). It's deeply satisfying to just bang away without a care in the world. And yes, the room the drums are in is sound-proofed. I wonder when Hyung's next concert is? He got taken to some music school or other where they hold orchestras or something. I don't know. If I had continued, I probably would go there too. I don't want to play something someone tells me to. Sigh. I'm the 'rebel'.

One possibly good thing about here is that the students stay in dorms so I won't have to see my parents. Not that I don't like them. It's hard to explain. Most of my stuff's in my room already, so I'll go there later. For now, I'm going to the music rooms. This place is big enough for that.

Today's orientation day, so a lot of people are milling about. Not everyone can play instruments – and there's no events held this early – so the music section is mercifully empty. I saw some senior already at a piano though. He looked the type to go for concerts my bro participates in, so I wonder why he's here. He could've gone to the same place as Hyung.

Right now, I'm twirling the drumsticks because I don't feel like playing yet. I pout to myself, because being melancholy isn't my style. Thinking about being separated from my twin isn't a very nice feeling, for sure. Alright, let's just play whatever comes to mind -!

"COOL!"

I almost fell off my chair! Suddenly there's this girl bursting into the room and her big blue eyes all sparkling – what the heck?

"Where did you learn to play like that? What's your name! Oh, and I'm Abigail! Call me Abby or something!" she thrusts out her hand, looking fully expectant for me to shake it.

I feel like answering, say, 'Taeyang' or something and she probably wouldn't know the difference. But, never mind that. "Yong Soo," I say instead, shaking her hand.

"Ooh! You're um, Asian! Awesome! Can I call you Soo?"

I want to say something when another girl comes in. "Abigail, be more civil, please," she speaks softly, but firmly.

"Aw, Karen! You're no fun!" she blows up her cheeks.

"Sorry for that," she deadpans. Then she turns to me. "I'm sorry on behalf of my twin. She gets hyper most of the time. And ignorant."

She looks like she wants to protest, but she sighs and says, "Sorry 'bout that. Can we start over?"

"It's… okay, I think."

"Great! So, later on in the year, Artie says there'll be festivals and stuff, so be our drummer! She may not look it, but Karen's wicked on the bass!" she grins.

Artie? Who the hell is he? Karen blushes. "ABIGAIL! You have absolutely no idea how to conduct a conversation!"

"Yadayada, you sound like Artie. Loosen up like Soo over here! Betcha after you jam, you'll feel better!" she flashes a thumbs-up.

I just notice that she has a guitar slung over her shoulder. Probably an electric one, if her twin plays the bass. Hyung plays the guitar too, apart from his violin…

"Oh! We have to meet Arthur! You made me forget when you ran in here!" Karen starts lecturing Abigail.

"Okay, okay, let's roll! See ya, Soo!" she waves energetically and runs out, yelling at Karen to catch up.

… just what happened?


	4. 004: Patience

**Can't. Stop. Writing. ARGH.**

**Watching my friend play the Fireball app on my phone 'inspired' this. The game's only for Android devices though. Romerica drabble.**

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><p><strong>004:<strong> Patience

"AHH! STAY DOWN DAMMIT!"

Alfred sips his coffee and wonders what's going on upstairs.

"I WAS SO FUCKING CLOSE!"

A lull. Al helps himself to some donuts he bought the other day.

"WHAT THE HELL? I DIDN'T GODDAMN TOUCH IT!"

Silence. He continues chewing.

"TAKE THAT, JACKASS!"

It's quiet again. Maybe he should check if the mail came through yet?

"FUUUUUUU – "

"LOVINO. Keep it down, will you?" Al yells up the stairs. His neighbours wouldn't be happy.

"DON'T TALK TO ME!"

Concerned, he decides to check up on his boyfriend. What he finds is a fiercely concentrating Italian glaring daggers at his tablet he's almost afraid to breathe. "Um –" he begins meekly, when Lovino whoops.

"WHO'S THE BOSS NOW, HUH? I AM, ASSHOLE!"

"Lovino."

He finally notices him. "What."

"What are you doing?"

"Oh. This app you got is fun."

"All that swearing… 'fun'?"

"Yeah," he gets off the bed and shoves Al out of the room. "Get me _good_, _Italian_ coffee and _good_ tomatoes and leave them outside my door. Out!"

Before he is fully unceremoniously thrown out of the room, Alfred tries his kicked-puppy look. Even that does not deter Lovino and the door is slammed in the blonde's face.

He just got one-upped by a _virtual program_. He could destroy that thing in a jealous rage but it's expensive to get another one (and God knows what a snapped Italian could do) so he won't.

… damn.


	5. 005: Nights

**Yet another fic idea. I really, really wanted to write some badass!Kiku (preferably with him topping). I wanted this to be as realistic as possible though, and thus I hit a roadblock when trying to write the second chapter. This is about the whole of the first chapter and is around as factual as you can get. This is set in the 1990s, where the Japanese economy wasn't doing too good, and the yakuza still roamed. I've taken some liberties with the setting though, because I didn't look for too long. Warnings for inaccuracies, and stuff!**

**The words in bold are spoken mostly in Japanese, though where applicable, it can be any other language. Mostly Japanese. (And it's not likely I'll continue this...)**

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><p><strong>005:<strong> Nights

"**Please be careful**," the so-called receptionist of the hotel tells him. Arthur nods absently, getting the gist of her message.

He managed to get a room cheap since the economy was in a little of a slump. Well, little wasn't accurate, but some tact is probably needed. The bubble had burst, and now everyone was struggling to hang on. He sighs; maybe he should've waited before coming. Shibuya hardly had any life, or at least, not as far as he could see. The sun is starting to set; perhaps more people would come out soon. He walks down random streets, eventually arriving at what his map called 'Dogen-zaka'. He notes that there are quite a few nightclubs here, but it's still a little too early to start drinking. Then he hears faint voices. Music begins blasting from the clubs, so he can't pinpoint exactly where they came from. From what he's heard, they don't sound too friendly though.

He thinks of turning back, but something compels him to look. He ducks into a couple of alleys, and immediately stumbles onto several rough-looking men surrounding two rather lithe people. They're all wearing black, and the circle of large men has tattoos. The more tanned of the two in the middle chuckles. Somehow, the music around them is… muted. _Strange_, is the thought in Arthur's mind. That is likely to be an understatement.

"**Isn't this fun, nii-sama? Clichés, as always**," the Englishman cannot understand the words, but they sound quite cheerful considering the situation. "**Then there's that gaijin over there**," the man gives Arthur a wave and a grin. Fear rises in Arthur's throat when the bulky men give him imperceptible sneers. He doubts he can run fast enough.

"**Do not tease the man, Hito**," the second, shorter man says smoothly. "**Let us finish this and give him… ah, our protection**."

"**Got it**."

A blur of movements later, the musclemen have been downed, with the duo dusting themselves. Both men have hair as black as their impeccable clothes, though one has neatly cropped hair while the other has a messy mane a little like his own, with two strange strands sticking out. When he smoothes his hair, the strands refuse to stick and bounce a little, defying gravity. "I don't think this was what you were expecting, eh?" he offers his hand to Arthur. "My name is Hito, and this is Kiku-nii-sama."

A little taken aback, he shakes the proffered hand. "I didn't think you could speak English."

"Oh, it's necessary to pick up languages you know. People like you stray into our territory," the smile fails to reassure. "Now then, that was just a taste of what people around here do. You'll need protection, whether you like it or not."

The men have not moved. "Are they – "

"Nope, they're not dead. They'll like you to be, though, thinking you must be a swanky _gaijin_ to have connections to the yakuza."

Cold sweat rolls down his back. "**Hey, nii-sama, why does this always happen?**"

"**You do need a start to it all**," Kiku's hand reaches up and traces the blonde's jaw lightly. "**Let us see ****where this takes us**_**.**_"

"**Uncharted territory**," chortles Hito. "**It'll be fun!** Follow us! What's your name?"

"Ah, Arthur. Arthur Kirkland."

"Alright, Arthur! There's no 'family' in particular here, but welcome!" the grin is all but blinding. "Try not to make any wrong moves, okay? Where's your hotel?"

So it begins.

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><p>"<strong>We're back!<strong>" Hito bursts into a surprisingly sparsely-decorated apartment. It's still quite a nice nook.

"**Ah, welcome back, Hito. You look like you're in a good mood, and overshadowing Kiku-sama as always**," a woman with long brown hair with a flower tucked in it emerges, pulling Hito's ear none too gently.

"Ow, ow! **Sorry, Ume-nee~**" he says plaintively.

Arthur watches the charade, feeling on edge. "**Oh? Who's this gaijin?**"

"**Asa**," Kiku answers the woman simply, resting his katana on a counter. The hilt, guard and sheath are all black. "**Ume, you can let go of Hito now.**"

"**Oh, right.**" She shoves him backwards upon releasing him. He manages to recover his balance and rubs his ear. He gives Arthur a bashful grin and leaves the room. He pops in again momentarily to say, "People laugh at Ume-nee since she's a woman. No one laughs when she pins you to the wall with her kunai."

The Brit isn't sure what to make of his words. The woman is dressed in a gold… what do you call those Asian clothes with a slit…? "It's a cheongsam, Asa-san," her voice is sweet, befitting her looks. He can't help but look twice at her after those words though. "I am Ume," she bows slightly. "I am one of the members of Kiku-sama's organization."

_What kind of organization_, he thinks. "I'm Arthur Kirkland."

"I see. Would you like some tea? It calms you down," she moves towards a pot on a table he hadn't noticed before. She conjures cups as though from nowhere. "We don't poison guests, if that's what you're thinking."

He gulps and proceeds to the chairs around the table. He sips it slowly, watching the demure smile on Ume's face. The tea is indeed comforting, warmth travelling down to his stomach. The chair is hard and wooden, but he starts to feel drowsy. Ume's then closed eyes open, revealing warm brown orbs. "Please rest."

He vaguely registers her voice. . .

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><p>Sunlight streams in through the bamboo curtains. The room is modestly sized. The floor is tatami. The walls are a tasteful pale yellow. A table and chair occupy one side of the wall. The other side has a bed with white sheets. The bed is currently occupied, and only a mop of messy blond hair indicates so. The person begins to stir. "Nngh…"<p>

The door opens with a soft click. Feet pad on the mats. The sound is not enough to wake the person in bed. There's a few more quiet movements and –

**BANG!**

Arthur sits bolt upright. Despite the wake-up call, he still can't shake himself fully awake though. The door is wrenched open.

"**Xiao-nim~! You shouldn't do that! He's probably still jet-lagged!**"

"**He came two days ago. He should be fine.**"

"**Still – !**"

"**Handle him, will you?**"

He blearily rubs his eyes and vaguely sees a person with a red top walking out. There's another one in the room. "Who… are you…?"

"Leon," the one leaving calls out.

"… here, Arthur-ssi, have some tea."

He takes the proffered cup carefully and drinks. He feels more human already. "Thank you…?"

"Im Yong Soo," he offers.

"… Korean?"

His face darkens. "Unfortunately, yes." A grin immediately dismisses the shadows on his face. "Well, Xiao-nim, or Leon if you want, was to wake you for breakfast. I'll take you, ze~"

Arthur notes he fell asleep in yesterday's clothes; a short-sleeved blue shirt and khaki pants since it's just early autumn. "I'm wearing a hanbok," Yong Soo decides to say casually. "If you ask, you could get a more comfortable hakama."

"Uh… didn't anyone else hear the bang?"

They're already a little ways from the room, but the Korean walks back to the door and raps on it. "It's solid, and your room is basically soundproofed. The only reason I knew Xiao-nim would use a firework to wake you is because I know him. Let's hurry, Hito-nim would be hungry."

"A… firework."

"Yeah, pretty good distractions," he confirms, a little distracted.

Arthur realizes this isn't the apartment. It's far too big. As they walk, he also notes that all the other rooms don't appear to have doors like his; at least, on the way to another room, this one with an undistinguishable screen door. One wonders how many doors are in this place. "**Kiku-hyungnim, I've brought Arthur-ssi.**"

"**Finally~ ah! Sorry, Kiku-nii-sama…**"

"**It does not matter. Come in.**"

The door slides open, and the Brit sees everyone he's met so far sitting around a large table heater. He feels a little awkward being the only foreigner here. He tries to sit like them, folding his legs under him as he joins them. A wide spread of simple dishes are waiting to be eaten, making him mildly surprised as to why they aren't pampering themselves, as 'they' are wont to do.

"You don't have to force yourself, Arthur-san," Ume is dressed in a bronze cheongsam today. She is seated next to who he presumes is Leon, who has choppy brown hair and a blank expression. The red top's sleeves appear oversized, just like Yong Soo's, except the latter's top is navy. The blonde shifts as he sits cross-legged instead.

"_Ittatakimasu_," all say save himself, and begin eating.

Arthur is seated next to Yong Soo, who helpfully gives him a small serving of each dish. He flushes with self-consciousness as he fumbles with the chopsticks. Just as he opens his mouth to ask for other cutlery – possibly crushing his pride in the process – someone pops a morsel in his mouth. His face reddens further when he sees it's Kiku. He chews slowly, partly in embarrassment, partly taking in the features of the other man. His eyes are such a depthless brown, his skin so smooth and pale…

"It is rude to stare."

If he wasn't red enough, he is now, startled out of his reverie. At least the rest are pretending nothing is happening. Ume is busy pulling Hito's gravity-defying hair. Arthur coughs. "I'm sorry."

"I will teach you how to use chopsticks," he says pointedly, ignoring the apology. "Do not expect me or anyone else to feed you next time."

A quick lesson later, he manages to finish breakfast with them. He is still lightly blushing and if he didn't know any better, he would've thought the heater was on. Leon clears the table, quietly amazing him that he could carry all those plates and bowls without wobbling the stack. Then again, after yesterday's 'show', he shouldn't be surprised at what these pocket-sized (compared to him) Asians can do.

When Leon returns, they reveal a little more about themselves. Their group only consists of them, and now him. Kiku is the head, with Ume, or Mei Mei, as the right-hand woman who originated from Taiwan. Leon (or Li Xiao Chun) came from Hong Kong the previous decade, as had Yong Soo. Hito is an amnesiac, found around the same time when the previous two arrived. What they have in common is that all of them have had run-ins with other yakuza families, with those close to them now lost. Kiku is 26, a year younger than Arthur himself. The rest are 24. The 'newcomer' has a feeling they know everything about him after last night and also a gut instinct telling him they're probably looking for something…

"Are you well rested, Asa?"

It's hard to meet Kiku's empty gaze. "More or less."

"Good. We will train today, you and I. **You know what to do**," this last he addresses the others. All nod and get up. Arthur's legs have gone numb, despite his efforts. When he stumbles, Kiku grasps his shoulder firmly, the height difference not bothering him. "I will make sure you can at least roll out of the way. None of us can be with you all the time."

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><p>A loud entrance signals a probable lunch, something Arthur would be very grateful for. Both his body and pride have been severely bruised and battered under Kiku's tutelage, since he hasn't been able to duck fast enough. "You are too soft," was the verdict. He isn't sure he wants to do this, but there's no way to know he isn't on the other yakuza's hit list so he might as well man up. He grimaces as he tries to massage his shoulder, then arms and torso. When he stretches, his joints crack wonderfully.<p>

There's a chorus of "Kiku-hyungnim~!" and "Kiku-nii-sama!" which gets promptly silenced, presumably by Ume. Arthur feels uneasy that it appears only his room has been soundproofed. Still, he doesn't want to hear fights if they occur, though considering the setting, it's a matter of 'when' and not 'if'.

"Come, Asa. We have no time to waste. We will have a quick meal and break."

He merely nods and follows the other man out. Again, he wonders how big this place is, as they enter a room similar to the earlier one, but isn't. He should know; he counted the doors. Kiku motions him to sit beside him as the rest file in, carrying the dishes. They sit in the same position as earlier, indicating high discipline, to say the least. When the meal is over, Kiku asks, "**What news do you bring?**"


	6. 006: These Millennia Past

**I was in tuition when this idea suddenly hit me a.k.a my headcanon for the Asian trio. My muse is I MUST WRITE THIS IMMEDIATELY so I did. All characters I write seem to have an antsy side. Also, headcanon dictates that Yao has certain favouritism towards Kiku (due to males + 'first borns' being more treasured. Being a traditional old man, I'd think this is reasonable). **

**This is just _my_ headcanon, so feel free to disagree! I also adapted some other headcanons. There are historical references. I'd go over them in the ending note. Possible inaccuracies.**

**I… tried not to make it fail. It just literally wrote itself (with some headcanons I didn't know I had), suddenly switching to dark!Hetalia. You have been warned.**

**I just honestly didn't expect it to turn out this way. I'll get round to those ideas!**

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><p><strong>006:<strong> These Millennia Past

_~ The earlier years_

**Yao**

"Yao-gē!"

"Don't -!"

Too late, Yong had barrelled into him and almost knocked him off balance. Jú was much better behaved, and while Yao didn't want to favour either of them, he couldn't help but prefer him. Quiet and respectful, he was nothing like Yong. Yong was always brash and doing something to get his attention. Hopefully he'd grow out of this phase soon. He was a nation after all, and being a child didn't mean anything. Look at Jú! If he could be mature, so could Yong.

"I'm hungry, Yao-gē!"

He sighed. "Alright, aru. Just wait a little longer."

**Yong**

He fidgeted restlessly as he waited for Yao to come back. He felt hungry, and Yao's food was the best in the world! If only he'd hurry up. He stole a glance at his so-called 'brother'. Jú was always silent and stoic. He figured that later on in his (bound to be) long life, he'd have enough occasions to be serious so why not enjoy this time? He wasn't a full country yet, after all.

It was moments like these he rather envied Jú. He was always, always the perfect example, and he loathed to be compared to him. They were both different, so did that mean they had to be treated differently too? Then he remembered these sort of thoughts made him old before his time, so he put them aside.

Anyway, Yao was a traditionalist, so this sort of thing was to be expected. The elder had more hopes pinned on him. Just that… well, never mind.

**Jú**

It was good that Yong didn't decide to jabber away. He had to concede that he was not always the hyperactive child. If he were to say out his thoughts, though, he was quite jealous of how he could live everyday in such high spirits. He himself could not do that, because… he was not sure why. Perhaps it was the wish to be a strong nation? If he wanted to push on to his goal faster, he could not afford to waste energy by simply running around doing nothing.

He wanted to be a strong nation. He would have to make a lot of sacrifices to get there, but it would be worth it. No one should underestimate him. This wish burned silently inside him, and would be his driving force.

_~The middle years_

**Yao**

"Aiyaa! Yong! Why is your writing so sloppy, aru? I know you can do better, aru yo!" Yao clicked his teeth as he looked over the boy's work.

'Boy' may not be so accurate. He was growing fast. Already he was set to dwarf both him and Jú.

"But, Yao-gē, your writing's so hard!" he pouted.

Yao refrained from bringing his other charge into this. But before he could say anything more, a word he couldn't recognize escaped the other's mouth. "형," he began, then realized what he had said. "Oh."

The rift here was beginning.

He left Yong for the day, and went over to Jú. He was writing, as usual. He nodded approvingly at his work. "Jú, why don't we take a break, aru."

He paused in his writing, and turned around somewhat mechanically. "私の名前は菊,"he said monotonously. Somewhere along the way, he was beginning to lose both of them. _~ The later years_

**Yao**

"Ahh, you see, the rabbit is pounding medicine on the moon, aru."

"No, he is pounding mochi."

"Either one is fine, da ze, but mochi sounds good."

Yao hid a tight smile. They were beginning to grow up, well and truly, but there was so much he had yet to teach them. He did have so many years – ah, what an understatement – of experience to impart.

Kiku had stopped growing after some time, and he was even shorter than Yao himself. But as he had expected, Yong Soo had shot up and now he was something like an awkward teen trying to get used to his new body.

The time he spent with them grew shorter and shorter as their people gained their own identities, and the time when they would completely leave him behind wouldn't be too far off.

_~ Beginning war years_

**Yao**

"Kiku! Why are you fighting! Aren't we family?" he shouted uselessly as he clashed blades with him.

"Family does not count in war. I must expand and get stronger, and you are a stepping stone."

Kiku had never been expressive, and his words all flat and clinical. He could feel the ambition radiating off the man despite that. Had his encouragements made him this way? He admittedly never said so much to Yong Soo, taking for granted he would stay by him. He _was_ clingy, but he shouldn't have forgotten he was a nation. As was Kiku.

**Yong Soo**

It hurt. They were fighting over him. He didn't want that. He was confused, not understanding what was going on. His first war… he'd never thought of _being_ in a war. He was tired. He supposed he would learn the ways of the world the hard way. He sighed, suddenly feeling old. "Hyung…" he mumbled.

**Kiku**

It was a shame that the admiral had committed suicide, but it was what he may have considered doing in cases of defeat. It did not matter too much. He could always do a depiction of him coming to negotiate the surrender.

Yong Soo had complete independence but he still didn't quite have his land yet. He will have to change that.

_~ The middle war years_

**Yao**

The new cut on his back throbbed. He may have gotten worse, but this. This burned like a dragon ravaging the land with his fiery breath. And there he was, Kiku, just staring at him.

How much was he going to take from him? He took Yong Soo away and now, he was taking some of him too. This was too much.

**Yong Soo**

Oh. It started a while ago, Kiku's encroachment into his land. He was just too naïve at first to notice it. Now… he was supposed to take up his culture? He was supposed to _praise_ him when he was taking everything away that made him himself? He was supposed to change his name for a start, then later dismantling everything that he had built up so far. Well, sure he'll change his name. He just won't write it in Hangeul, he'll write it in Hanja. That's close to his beloved kanji.

Seems that his envy had given way to burning hatred.

_~ Ending war years_

**Yong Soo**

He stood there, at the corner of the room. His former oppressor was lying still on the bed, the result of the bombs Alfred had dropped. Or rather, America. He didn't have much time here, since he's got a nice little war brewing in his country. "Soo."

"Let's go."

**Alfred**

He couldn't say anything. What could he say? They just signed the treaty and he was still at war with himself. He was pretty terrified at what was going on. At least he had resolution during his own civil war, but this was completely different and out of his league. Not only that he had a war in Vietnam! B-but he couldn't leave him like this! It killed him inside. How could he claim to be a hero when this was happening?

He wasn't saying anything though. He was just holding him painfully tightly and trying to ignore the wildly opposing halves inside him. Alfred was trying to comfort him but he was sure he was failing. Then, Yong Soo's death grip slackened.

"Soo?"

The guy fainted from sheer stress, he presumed. He nibbled his bottom lip, wondering what to do now. Well, he should sleep on his bed.

On a whim, he decided to visit _that_ place. The soldiers stationed there (and will be for the rest of… as long as no peace treaty was signed) didn't salute, but they urged him to hurry. His eyes widened when he saw a little – well, not so little, looking about approaching her teens – girl being fussed over. Her dress was dirty, her hair unkempt. What chilled him was that her eyes looked lifeless something a little like Soo when –

He definitely blinked. He missed her fluid motion out of the soldiers' circle, and stood a mere step away from the disputed border. He didn't know her human name (and still would never know, unless Soo knew and never told him) and was about to say a single word when she turned her back and just vanished.

_North._

The soldiers were baffled as he was. She was definitely not a ghost, for sure.

_~ Modern years_

**Yong Soo**

He wondered how his 'sister' was now. He wondered how he would ever 'forgive' Kiku. He _could_, to a point, but what he really wanted was that he said sorry, not as _Japan_, but as _Kiku_. Couldn't he say that one word to him, human to human? Why, why not? He wondered if he could ever hug his sister. And always, he wondered.

Never outside his home though. Everyone's expecting chipper Yong Soo who annoys the hell out of everyone. They can't deny his presence is everywhere, now with his music and dramas all over the world.

He likes to think. He might think until he got depressed, whereupon he'd play a ballad on his piano, or bang away on his drums. He hopes his sister got to know music, preferably string instruments. Because they are so different from each other, yet when they come together…

They haven't done so yet, but he was sure that they would at least, be one in their music.

**Kiku**

He put the finishing touches, and sighed in satisfaction. The figurine was painted perfectly. Now then, he shifted to his PC to play a run of the Extra Stage. When he first saw Mamizou, admittedly the moving bullets temporarily unnerved him. Now he was ready to graze more and get a higher score.

Though he didn't feel like it at the moment.

He had come a long way, and the memories still lurked in the background, constantly taunting him. He never dares to ask what they think of him now. If his submissive nature leaves him in the background, so be it. He taps his table idly. He had sacrificed so much and while he may not _exactly_ be paying a price, but still. He hates what he had done then, but there is no way to take it back. He does not want to ever bring it up again, preferring to brood on them. While he may speak of honour, he does not have the courage to face them head on. He doesn't want to go through them again.

… such cowardice.

**Yao**

He slowly moved to a calming tone in his head. His old, old body stretched, but not uncomfortably so. _Tai chi_ was a good way to exercise. It let him clear his mind briefly, though it allowed for other thoughts to come intruding, sometimes.

What extremes he had gone through. The rise and fall of dynasties, communism, then opening up again… he smiled wryly to himself. What was he without perseverance? After living for so long, you learnt to adapt.

Of course, some had to grow up too fast.

Should he really dwell on that? Let the world continue 'surprising' him. He blanked out his mind again.

* * *

><p><strong>Oh Gods, what is this I have written? I must say I like NK as a guy, but here, somehow it felt more fitting to put a girl. Okay, so notes time.<strong>

- **The first years would mean some time after Yao found Yong Soo. I don't have a headcanon about how that meeting went, so didn't include it.**

- **Yong in Chinese means 'brave'. ****Jú means chrysanthemum. Why in Chinese? I felt that they wouldn't have their own language just yet, they'll use Chinese, of course. G****ē would be 'brother' in Chinese.**

- **Middle years would be still in B.C. I think. Yong Soo says 'hyung' which is brother in Korean. ****Jú/Kiku says, 'My name is Kiku', in Japanese. Soo's writing is 'sloppy' because it's quite different, basically.**

- **The later years just covers a bit of the Moon Rabbit. Both Japanese and Koreans believe that the rabbit pounds rice cakes.**

- **The beginning war years references the First Sino-Japanese war where Korea was the main reason for the dispute, it seems.**

- **Middle war years references the Second Sino-Japanese war, when the Nanking massacre ****occurred. Prior to that, the Korean government had to sign one hell lot of stuff, in favour of the Japanese, naturally. Then later on, the Koreans had to change their names to Japanese ones, among other stuff. Hangeul usage was banned and Hanja looks like kanji. Didn't check if it **_**is**_** though, just in a different way…?**

- **Ending war years would be the end of WWII, and the start of the Korean War. The armistice was signed in 1953, 3 years after the war officially started. The Vietnam War lasted until 1975 though US troops were moved out in 1973. No wonder the Korean War's overshadowed.**

- **About North Korea… that was quite unexpected. I really like the idea of NK and SK being twins so when this came out, I felt it just suited the story.**

- **I'm debating about how the ending turned out. I'm not so sure about it.**


	7. 007: Metal and Magic

**Working on the ideas. So far letting stuff play around in my head. Seems that the more work I have, the better the ideas come. … that sucks.**

**This idea came out of the desire to see Yong Soo in goggles. Yes, I'm shallow. Steampunk!AU this time! Also a half-formed RP idea. Yup, all the ideas are coming… whether it'll gel or not (and if I'll have time to write anything longer) I don't know.**

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><p><strong>007:<strong> Metal and Magic –title pending–

"YEEEEEEEEHAAW!"

Objects zip past a window, rattling it and neatly severing the dandelion growing in a patch of stray earth. The occupant of the house ignores the sounds. This is a daily routine.

"OI! YOU'RE GOING TOO FAST, DA ZE!"

"YOU'RE ONLY SAYING THAT BECAUSE YOU'RE SLOW!"

"LOOK IN FRONT –"

"Why are you two racing when you have deliveries to do, aru?"

"I told you, da ze…"

"Oh. Hey, boss…"

The man crosses his arms, smiling tightly. "If you never actually did your jobs, I would have fired you two, aru yo!"

"Of course we do! It's slow sometimes, yeah?"

WHACK!

"Are you trying to say the less business the better?"

"Haha, ow…"

"GET TO WORK, ARU!"

"YESSIR!"

As they fly off, he sighs. "How nice to be young, aru…"

This is Qunin, a city of metal floating high above the clouds. It's supported by strategic expulsions of steam as well as from the magic community. Most of the work is done by the mages, but with exchanges of information, everyone's doing their fair share. There are other floating islands apart from the main city itself, where people stay or sometimes come across opportunist 'evil-doers'. It's hard to actually do anything when, in the spirit of self-preservation, the mages watch the skies and can easily smite them.

But let's ignore that for now and focus on two rather hyperactive not-quite-adults supposedly on their rounds to deliver goods. "Mantao Delivery here, da ze!" one drops his load off and goes to join his companion who also has completed the current job.

"Man, I wish the old man didn't give the company a delicious name, ze…"

"It means some sort of steamed bun, huh. Yeah, it'll be nice to eat some now. But it did use to be a restaurant, didn't it?"

"Yeah. Then he branched out. He won't retire."

"Nice to know your old man's active."

"Sure. RACE YOU BACK~!"

"H-HEY - ! SOO!"

'Soo' gives his friend a rabid grin as he shoots off back to Mantao. One is known as Yong Soo, the other Alfred Jones. They're childhood friends working under the former's grandfather since it had reasonable pay (and also they could race using the machines but shh). When and how exactly did they meet doesn't need to be known at the moment, so let's just follow them back to their workplace.

"We're back, old man!"

"I'm not that old, aru!"

"But you've been around so long, da ze."

"Is 80 years so long?"

"It's weird you look so young." This is regular teasing.

"I'm a mage too, aru yo."

"'course, da ze."

"Anyway, I'm sure you're very eager to be free for the day, aru. You can go. And don't think I don't know you abuse those machines, aru!"

The friends exchange innocent glances, which break out into wide grins as they high-five. "Thanks, gramps!"

"Just go, aru," he shoos them out, exasperated yet amused.

"YEAH! Let's go bug Artie!"

"Maybe he has new spells!"

"HAHA! Yeah! Then he'd go all flustered and say crap like 'it's not like I did this for you' or something –"

"Are you going yet or not, aru? I still have lots of things to be sent, aru yo!"

"Goin', goin'!"


	8. 008: Dominance

**This chapter's written due to some boredom and in a light haze of fever. It's not quite M-rated, but it's about the closest I can write. Hur hur. Sorry for the fail title.**

**As for the food fight, I seem to be running into a wall. After writing lots of 'somber' stuff, my ability to write crack is… well.**

**To Yuriko Oomura who requested this! Hope you like it~**

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><p><strong>008:<strong> Dominance

Two combatants stand facing each other, their hands ready to whip out their weapons. Today's fight is taking place on one of the many ships moored here. She isn't a very large ship, but it would do for their ritualistic scuffle. A lot of the foolish crew mates are gathered at the sides of the ship, wanting to watch all the action. There are even some perched precariously on the crow's nest, craning their necks as far as they dare to, squinting to ensure they not miss a detail. Everyone waits with bated breath, carefully running their eyes over those occupying the spotlight, even though they've seen them many times before. One is dressed almost entirely in black, save for his purple cape and its stylized golden chrysanthemum. He is also wearing epaulets, like his adversary. The other wears a large black tricorn hat. His cloak is a fancy scarlet, commanding the audience's attention. But his rival isn't a wallflower, despite his stoic appearance.

"So, we meet again, Kiku," one begins speaking.

'Kiku' eyes his opponent disdainfully. "I do not recall giving you permission to call me that, Kirkland," he says pointedly. "It is strange you deign speak properly when you talk to me. I am most grateful," his voice is laced with venom.

"Oh, don't be like that, Kiku. We've fought enough to be, ah, best friends, haven't we?" he laughs crudely, his green eyes glittering.

"Your definition of 'friend' is twisted, _captain_," he purrs, smiling mirthlessly.

"Suffered a few hard knocks in my time, I did," he retorts, smirking.

"But of course. No crazier fool would be a captain of a band of hooligans."

Normally, the people in question would have booed and hissed at those words, but in this occasion, their captain had given the order for 'perfect silence'.

"Hey, lay off my men, will you? I assure you, they're perfectly trained. You see how quiet they're keeping?" he arches a thick brow, as though conspiratorially.

"Ah. My men suffer discipline problems. Do you mind sharing some of your dubious methods?" his eyes burn with strange desire.

"If you can make me hit the deck, I will!" At that, Kirkland unsheathes his cutlass and dashes over.

Metal meets metal, the clang resounding in the quiet. It is shortly accompanied by squawks of seagulls and the low sound of the water lapping the ship's sides.

The safety nets of the ship are the first to go, as the spectators at the side hastily scramble aside to avoid the blade. Though they do come close to slicing a wayward ear, the fighters don't actually touch anything apart from the 'obstacles' on the ship. They know each other well, their dodging and strikes impeccable. A shot rings out, and two cries are heard. They will be the first casualties of the match. This happens ever so often, but it never stops them from wanting to watch this entrancing dance.

"Oh, you got a gun, Kiku!"

"Astute observation, Kirkland."

More swings are exchanged. Despite their rather 'flowy' clothes, they don't even manage to nick those. Not a single scratch is dealt but still they hold their audience enraptured. The lack of hits is rather boring to describe, but ah, if you could watch, I doubt you would mind. But all good things must come to an end, and for this round, Kirkland bites the dust, expertly flipped over onto the deck with a blade held to his neck.

* * *

><p>There is another battle of dominance held at night. Tongues lash about, trying to gain the upper hand. Hands full of experience tease mercilessly, trying to make the other submit. Sweat rolls down their bodies as they keep going, caught up in their passion. There are brief gasps as they try to regain their breath as they lock mouths once more. Just like before, though they are equal in their strengths, someone has to buckle.<p>

The sharp green eyes are now hazed over with lust as the other squirms on his touch. "What's wrong, Kiku?" he breathes. "Where is that cockiness, hmm?"

He does not answer as he breathes heavily. His eyes have a different light now, one of want and need. His companion licks his lips as he moves his head down, his lips hovering the other's quivering ones. "Next time, I will get you," he manages as much as he can, being breathless.

"Try all you can, love. Are you sure you don't want to take turns?"

"I rather earn it," suddenly he rises and shoves hard on his 'partner's' well-toned shoulders, a triumphant smirk gracing his features as he pins him down.

"I wouldn't have it any other way," is the reply, as they continue their battle.


	9. 009: Forever Young

**A little something before I really go off on hiatus. Right now busy F5ing the LJ comm for the Halloween event, but that's about it. I've got no mood for writing at all. Exams, guys.**

**Familial/UST US + UK.**

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><p><strong>009:<strong> Forever Young

"Tell me a story, England," America asked, making puppy eyes for good measure. He always did this whenever England _finally_ came to visit him. His visits were starting to get infrequent as he told of many other similar children to him on the other side of the world. They could be his playmates, but England never brought them over, no matter how much he asked. He stopped after some time and broken promises.

But! But now he was here, so he didn't need to entertain these gloomy thoughts. "Alright," England sighed, yet smiling slightly. "One story, then go to sleep."

"How… how long will you be here?"

"Only a few days I'm afraid. I wish I could stay longer -"

"It's okay, England! I'm a strong boy!" he grinned to reassure him. In truth, he felt quite lonely at times. Once he was an adult, he could go anywhere and make friends on his own, and be someone they looked up to… a hero! That's it!

"Yes, you're a fine lad," the elder ruffled his hair. "Now then, a story…"

"Anything's good when you're telling it," he said honestly.

"W-well, I don't have much of a choice, do I?" Pink dusted his cheeks as he huffed. "I'm just doing this so that I can have you off my back, that's all."

America smiled innocently. He got used to the flustered justifications too. He settled in to hear a story of a boy who would never grow old and how other children experienced an adventure he would never have. He felt entranced, but one thing bothered him. He wasn't jealous of these fictional children, and he realized he was wondering about this 'Peter's' motives… how strange.

He remained awake when the story ended. "America, you should sleep."

"Why did he never grow old?"

England felt confused. Did he fail to mention that? "It was because of magic."

"Staying a boy doesn't sound fun."

"Why not?" England's brow furrowed at his words. Not that _his_ own childhood was particularly sweet - especially due to a certain Frenchman - but he made sure to provide for America. He was confident he did nothing wrong.

"Because he won't be taken seriously. He'd always be taken care of even though he wants to go on adventures. Without Tinkerbell, he would be lonely," he said earnestly. "He would have to stay behind everytime._I_ want to grow up quickly."

"And you are, aren't you?"

With those words, he felt further from England than ever before. Did he think he was merely having a shallow desire? He wanted him to acknowledge him as his own person, not just a little brother. He vowed to be strong, a hero, for England, especially England, to look up to.

"Mm. Good night, England."

"Good night."

… he didn't think that… getting England to recognize him would be so painful, as he looked into green eyes flashing with anger and hurt. He wanted them to be on the same level. Was that so bad?

He cleared his throat, and spoke clearly. "Even so… I choose independence."


	10. 010: Puppy Love

**Mimi the deer's request! It's human AU, since it was the first thing that came to mine. First time writing 'Nordic-centred' fic, and my first fluff in a while. Hopefully it _is_ fluffy. **

**I probably won't be doing much typing, seeing that I have a little writer's block and also, I'm preparing to go to uni in a month. 6 day weeks, no less! I won't abandon my stuff completely, but not particularly driven to write nowadays. ^^; I'll get round to stuff eventually, but don't count so much on it!**

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><p><strong>010:<strong> Puppy Love

Berwald didn't know what to expect when he entered kindergarten. Apparently, he looked 'scary' to most of the other kids in his neighbourhood, so maybe the teacher would think that way. His mamma and pappa waved goodbye to him since they had to go off to work. He merely nodded in acknowledgement. Other parents did the same, and some of his peers were crying. He felt like comforting them, but if they thought if he was 'scary', then how…?

His answer was a little 'woof'.

He looked down to see a little white fluffy puppy with bright eyes, looking up at him. It panted and wagged its tail happily. He felt undecided to pat it or not. It gave another yip and he caved in, picking it up. It wriggled in his grasp and tried licking his face.

"Kukkamuna! Oh!"

Berwald certainly wasn't thinking of seeing such a person as his teacher. His parents had told him about Miss Vainamoinen but he had not seen her until now. Apparently, neither had his fellow kindergarteners, as they stopped crying (much to their parents' relief) and turned to look at her.

The normally stoic child fought to keep his blush down but to no avail. Her violet eyes were big and warm-looking, giving her a cherubic appearance much like her students. Her pale blonde hair fell over her shoulders as she crouched to his level.

"Looks like she's taken a liking to you," she smiled, ruffling his hair. She noted his increasingly flustered disposition as he struggled to speak. He wasn't much of a talker back home, after all. "A shy one, are you?" she asked, curious.

His only response was to clutch the puppy harder, hiding his face in her fur. She took it as permission to lick his ear.

"Alright, say goodbye to your parents! They need to work!" she urged the others gently but firmly, taking charge. Stray tears were wiped as promises to fetch them early were made. Berwald paid no heed, still standing there and feeling completely embarrassed. Being scooped up by Miss Vainamoinen (later she would ask them to call her 'Miss Kaarina' because she knew it was hard to pronounce even by adults) was quite worth the envious looks the others gave him. And he had Kukkamuna by his side the whole day too.

He was sorry he had to go at the end of class, but definitely, he would come every day without fail.

**X**

'**Kukkamuna' is 'flower-egg'. Naming the dog 'Hanatamago' wouldn't make sense, unless it was a gift from Hisoka (my name for fem!Japan, meaning 'reserved') or Kiku.**

**Kaarina means 'pure'.**


End file.
